Black Widow Witch in Training
by everlovingdeer
Summary: "Do you – maybe want to catch up some time?" he asked and the uncertainty, something I hadn't heard in his voice since his seventh year, threw me a little. It was enough to remind me that he wasn't like any of Mother's husbands, he was just that boy that had got caught in my web and continued to orbit around me. Only he was a few years older now.
1. Black Widow Witch in Training

Very little changed for my family in the aftermath of the war. We had, after all, remained neutral and so managed to avoid the witch hunt that many of our fellow pureblood families experienced in the weeks, the months following the battle. Much of our lives had not changed and Mother and I continued our weekly brunch appointment where occasionally, my brother would join us too.

But today it was just the pair of us walking towards our usual tea room where we would likely be joined by the usual crowd. The tradition had started up after I graduated from Hogwarts almost 3 years ago now as a way of making sure that we both took some time out of our busy weeks to see one another.

Crossing the threshold of the tea room, my eyes roved across the room the way they normally did. And, as nosy pureblood society wives had the habit of doing, their eyes turned towards the door at the sound of approaching voices. Meeting every pair of eyes with a practised smile that was just the right mixture of polite and pleased to see them, I held their gaze for no more than a second before allowing my eyes to move on. But, it was when my gaze met a particular pair of waiting eyes that I almost let my surprise show; I certainly hadn't expected to see _him_ here.

Adrian Pucey sat at a table with a pair of witches that I knew as his mother and his maternal grandmother on either side of him as if his being in a tea room was a thing of the norm. It certainly wasn't. You would sooner find him hovering in mid-air on his broom or with an Arithmancy textbook held in his hands than to see him picking at finger sandwiches over a pot of earl grey.

He held my attention for only a short moment before I turned my focus back towards Mother who had followed after me. She was speaking to one of the staff members that had come to greet us and once they had exchanged their pleasantries, we were being led towards our usual table by the window which overlooked the gardens at the back of the rooms.

As I settled into my chair, shrugging out of my coat and draping it across the back, I heard Mother place our usual order without needing to consult the menu. She waited until the waiter disappeared out of earshot before doing the same.

"So," I began, unfolding the napkin and draping it over my upper thighs. Mother glanced expectantly towards me at the sound of my voice. "How is number twelve doing at the moment?"

"He's happy in love," she said with an indulgent smile and perhaps to those around us she looked happy in love. And why shouldn't she? She _was,_ after all, a newlywed. Only because I was her daughter, did I read the disgust hidden in the depth of those beautiful eyes. I wondered whether my own echoed that revulsion? Number twelve _was_ perhaps the vilest of all Mother's husbands. Each progressive husband seemed to be infinitely worse than the one before.

"Does he not have to leave for business soon?" I asked as our food was brought to the table. The conversation reached a natural pause as we waited for the listening ears to depart.

"Oh yes," Mother agreed finally. "He is to go on an extended holiday – about two weeks from now."

"So soon," I echoed, unsurprised as I reached for a cucumber sandwich. Salazar, I was even trying to hide a smile.

"Well, he has worked hard enough to deserve it."

"That he has."

And then, at the sound of approaching steps, even weighted and unrushed in their approach, our conversation halted. I was forced to disregard the curiosity I felt of how Mother was going to get rid of her disgusting husband this time, and simply waited. The footsteps stilled eventually and, from beneath my lashes, I managed to spy a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing a short distance away from our table.

Gentle throat clearing had me raising my eyes unsurprised to find that Adrian Pucey had left his mother and grandmother alone to approach our table. And, from what I could see from behind him, the two witches were watching him with rapt attention. It was only natural that they were curious of whatever witches he expressed interest for; he _was_ the last remaining male to bear the Pucey name. When I met his eyes, I knew I appeared unsurprised by his appearance and maybe I should have – would have, if I hadn't already anticipated it.

Adrian Pucey, brilliant and handsome and _far_ too smart-mouthed for his own good, had been appointed Head Boy in my sixth year. Of course, it was during my sixth year that he happened to spend the spare time he had between being on the house Quidditch team, Head Boy duties and studying for exams, revolving around _me_. Little old me who had played the role of the bashful girl to such perfection that he understood _why_ I continued to resist and yet showed no signs of the entitlement that most pureblood only children seemed to have engrained into them in childhood. That had been the role I played in sixth year, the one I knew he wanted me to play, but just who would he like me to be this time?

"Mrs Zabini," Adrian finally turned towards Mother after holding my gaze for a moment.

Mother, giving him a knowing glance, returned the greeting with a smile. "Adrian, how have you been?"

"Busy," he explained with a smile, trying and failing to throw a subtle glance my way. I was kind enough not to mention it. "The Quidditch season is approaching."

As Mother continued to talk to Adrian, I found my eyes raking over him appreciatively. He always had been handsome; broad-shouldered in the way that you just _knew_ was enough to make any witch feel protected in his arms, and smart enough to be more than capable of holding a half decent conversation. Except what did looks matter when there were much more important things? Important criteria?

He had fought on the winning side of the war – undergoing Auror training before eventually deciding to become a Quidditch player. From what Blaise occasionally spoke of him, he sometimes went on missions with the Aurors from the ministry when they were understaffed but his Quidditch team was quickly climbing up the ranks. Influential, Blaise had called him only for Theodore to correct that he was powerful. Albeit, the man didn't know how powerful he was. A perfect candidate.

"Excuse me," Mother said finally, preparing to rise from her seat. "I need to powder my nose."

Adrian stepped obligingly out of the way, letting Mother walk through and when she passed me, she brushed a hand over my arm. It was a hint – an agreement, really. Love was done with the head, not the heart and Adrian was the picture-perfect recipient for that kind of love. And, from the way he instantly took Mother's vacant seat, he would be all too easily reeled in. It was only a matter of biding my time.

"It's been a while," he started slowly, searching out my eyes and I rewarded him with a slow smile.

"It has," I returned pleasantly before averting my eyes. Would he say anything else?

"Your brother mentioned you're training to become a Curse Breaker?" he started, realising that my attention was slipping.

"I am," I agreed again, shortly and he shuffled in his seat. I decided to take pity on him then; he still remembered me as the false version I had allowed him to see. "Adrian."

He jolted slightly, shocked at hearing me calling him by his name for the first time. "Yes?"

"I'm glad you decided to accompany your mother and grandmother." He returned my smile with one that was so easy and uncalculated that I was almost jealous of it. Not many were able to smile in such a way.

"Me too," he said quietly and I wondered whether he was aware of how overwhelmingly grateful he sounded. "Merlin, me too."

* * *

Some might argue that whilst most pureblood children were spoiled, Blaise was more so because I had picked up the habit of spoiling him as well. Despite having just two years on him, some part of me – from a very young age – had made the conscious effort to ensure that all the memories he had were pleasant. The more happy memories he had, the less chance he had of recalling the bad things that had happened in the earlier years of our lives. And Merlin, I very much doubted that he remembered _any_ of those bad memories. I was eternally grateful for that.

It was only recently that Blaise had begun returning the favour, in his own entitled way. He had the habit of showing up at my apartment on the days he knew I was off from training and whisking me away for some shopping or just to eat out. Blaise even went as far as to insist on paying – as if the money _wasn't_ going to come out the same account anyway; we both regularly used the Zabini vault.

Usually, our shopping trips consisted of exclusively clothing shops because Merlin knew that we were both equally vain, something we both inherited from our mother. But, Blaise had decided that we absolutely needed to detour into a Quidditch supplies shop because apparently, our old housemates were organising a friendly tournament. He knew better than to ask what I thought of that because if he _had_ asked me, then I'd had scoffed and wondered at the how much time they all had to waste. Nonetheless, I followed him into the shop and didn't complain when Blaise detoured immediately towards the newest brooms. He'd been talking about wanting one for weeks now.

I found myself hesitating, uncertain of what to do in the unfamiliar environment. Well, that was the case until my eyes settled onto the dark-haired wizard in the corner of the room. He was surrounded by a large crowd of people, no doubt his fans as they occasionally thrust pieces of parchment towards him to get his signature. And then it was like a switch had gone off in my mind and I was back to being someone else, to playing a part. Adrian's presence was more than enough to have me shaking off whatever sliver of insecurity I'd been feeling and I approached the first stand I saw; chaser's gloves, it looked like. I knew he'd caught sight of me too.

Looking between the seemingly identical pairs of gloves on the display, I wondered what the difference between them was all. There _had_ to be some sort of difference after all – they all had different prices. I certainly couldn't see any difference. Maybe when Adrian decided to approach me, I could ask him what it was that justified the pricing.

He took a little longer than I anticipated to come to my side, but he did eventually cross the shop after managing to navigate through the crowd that gathered around him. I was so focused on trying to find some sort of difference between the gloves that I didn't hear his approach. Not until his voice sounded, right beside my ear.

"Long time no see, stranger," he said quietly, startling me.

My hand dropped back to my side from where I had been fiddling with a pair of gloves. Turning towards him, I watched him straighten up as he'd leaned in to whisper by my ear. Narrowing my eyes playfully, I demanded, "Are you following me, or something?"

He held his hands up defensively, "Hey! I was here first." Nodding in acceptance of the words, I turned back to the display and Adrian spoke quickly again, insistent on keeping my interest. "I actually needed to pick up some gear that I ordered a few weeks ago."

"There's no point in you telling me anything about the gear," I admitted and gestured to the display that I had been studying for a good ten minutes now. "I know nothing. Merlin, that's why I've been trying to understand why some of these gloves are more expensive than others."

"Usually that's do with the quality of the material and the stitch work," Adrian explained, his arm coming around my side to finger a pair of gloves. "These are my recommendation."

Before I could reach out for the pair, he took them and held them out above his hair, _far_ too high for me to reach in any sort of dignified manner. So, I didn't bother to reach for them at all. Instead, I met his eyes and arched a single eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"I figure you're getting them as a gift for someone," he explained and I nodded. He was right; Blaise had been complaining about needing new gloves as well. "Can you blame a man for being curious about who you're buying a pair of gloves for? You said it yourself that you have no knowledge about quidditch gear, and Merlin knows that you detest the idea of playing the game, so it makes me wonder who you'd put such effort in for?"

"I honestly don't see how that is any of your business," I murmured, eyeing the gloves when his arm dropped slightly. If it lowered even a little more, I could reach them. That is if I managed to beat his Quidditch reflexes.

"But it is," he insisted confidently, outstretching his arm again when he realised where I was looking. "You see, I was wondering whether there was a boyfriend that I might be stealing you away from?"

"Even if there was," I began with a slight laugh, "do you think that would be possible?"

"Don't you?" he asked, voice lowering enough that the laughter on my lips died and, my eyes were back on his. I held his gaze for a charged moment; he certainly wasn't that 17-year-old who bumbled around me. Not anymore. I swore, for a second that his eyes flickered towards my lips.

"No boyfriend," I murmured, clearing my throat and turning away from him. Looking back to the display, I picked up a pair of gloves, identical to the ones in his hand, up and held them between both hands. "Just a brother. Blaise is off buying a new broom for that stupid Slytherin alumni Quidditch tournament thing."

"I'm playing in that," Adrian said as well, and I felt his eyes burning into my face as he waited for me to look towards him again.

When I did, it was only for a few seconds to say, "He plays Chaser – the same as you."

"From what I've heard, he's good as well."

"He is," I confirmed before holding up the gloves in my hand. "Thanks for your help."

Before I could turn to leave his side to find Blaise, Adrian made his move. Putting the gloves he was holding back in their place, he ducked around me to stand in front of me. He knew he wasn't quite blocking my path, that I could easily edge past him but I remained standing in front of him. Just waiting.

"Do you – maybe want to catch up some time?" he asked and the uncertainty, something I hadn't heard in his voice since his seventh year, threw me a little. It was enough to remind me that he wasn't like any of Mother's husbands, he was just that boy that had got caught in my web and continued to orbit around me. Only he was a few years older now. He wasn't the sort of fly that deserved to get caught in such a disastrous web.

"Honestly," I began quietly, holding his gaze and feeling more sympathetic towards him than I had towards any other potential target. This moment of weakness would pass me by quickly, and soon it would be forgotten about. But still, I continued, "You _really_ don't want to date me, Adrian."

He continued to watch me, trying to read my eyes like he always tried to do at school. The besotted fool thought he would be able to see the real me but he should have known better than to think that possible. It wasn't. He would only see what I let him see, nothing more. And, sooner or later, he would realise that.

Of course, he would look past it because he believed he loved me. Maybe he did. But I certainly didn't love him. I didn't know _how_ to love someone that I didn't share blood with. Salazar's soul, I was certain that a woman like me didn't deserve the type of love he wanted to shower me with; I was letting him chase after me because of he managed to fit all of my criteria.

"But what if I do?" he asked back, just as seriously. Salazar, even a trapped fly knew it was doomed and yet he remained ever clueless.

* * *

Against my will, I found myself accompanying Blaise rather reluctantly to the Slytherin alumni tournament. The spoiled brat insisted that he wanted me there to watch him as he played and the annoying idiot failed to mention that he would be playing a couple of games over the weekend if his team managed to make it to the final match. Which, according to him, they stood a good chance of doing. I almost hexed him upon realising that he expected me to spend an entire _weekend_ pitch side to act as his one-woman cheering squad.

He had insisted that we needed to arrive at the pitch in time to catch the first match, even though his team wouldn't be playing until the afternoon. And so, the early morning found me sitting in the stands surrounded by Slytherin alumni as we watched two of the teams play the first game. My eyes were rather firmly settled on a single chaser as he navigated easily through the tactics of the opposing team with a smile on his face.

"You know," Blaise started in a way he thought was sly. "Adrian makes a good first target for you, don't you think?"

"Maybe," I said quietly, knowing better than to show _too_ much of any sort of interest. "But I'm not getting ahead of myself – I plan on keeping a single target."

"So, no easy disposals for you then."

"I don't think I'd ever be able to do what Mother does," I admitted steadily and when the weight of Blaise's gaze on my face grew unbearable, I glanced curiously towards him. His eyes, solemn and almost flinty, had me frowning.

"Adrian is a good man for you marry," he started slowly. "He was only ever nice to me. Probably because he knew I was your younger brother."

"Don't go getting ahead of yourself," I advised, patting his knee to try and bring some warmth back to his eyes. It was like he was trying to tell me off but he had no need; I knew what I was doing. "There's always other people out there Blaise. People with more money or better suited."

Blaise scoffed harshly, pointing out bluntly. "That man is in love with you. Has been for bloody years. _Years_."

"And he's the sort of person to expect love back," I reasoned with a sigh. Part of me wanted to grab my younger brother by the arm and demand to know why he had decided to care so much about my love life. Merlin, Blaise and I had always handled these issues by giving the other as much privacy as possible. We didn't ask, we waited for the other person to say something. If they wanted to say something at all. "Adrian isn't the sort of person to be satisfied with a beautiful woman on his arm. He'll want that beautiful woman to return his feelings."

"And you won't be able to give him any of that."

"No," I agreed, briefly glancing back towards the pitch as Adrian scored another goal. Half of the crowd cheered wildly and I clapped mildly, too preoccupied with Blaise's suddenly bleeding heart.

Blaise let out a cold chuckle before wondering, "Are we so fucked up because of Mother? Would it have been better if our Father was still around?"

His voice trailed off when I glanced sharply at him. I knew that my eyes had chilled over and that the stern expression on my face would instil some fear into him, as he wondered what he had said. But I needed him to understand, to never even _think_ of saying such a thing again.

"Blaise," I chastised steadily, "you are too young to remember the truth." Licking my dry lips, I explained, "Father was not – he was not a _good_ man."

He held my gaze for a moment, measuring out the weight behind my words, pondering on the implications. But he nodded once, sharp and understanding before we both turned out eyes back to the pitch. The game continued to progress, although, from the way the two seekers were shouldering at each other, it would soon come to an end.

"Should I leave you alone?" Blaise asked abruptly, eyes trailing after the seekers. "He clocked you the moment you took your seat and no doubt he'll come up to you after the match."

"That'll work. But I'll give you a sign for when to rescue me."

"I'll keep a lookout."

And then we exchanged no more words. I knew Blaise, knew him _better_ than I knew the back of my hands and that no doubt he was pondering on my words but I would never tell him the truth. He had no reason to know. We sat in a comfortable silence as the game finally came to an end and the two teams shook hands. The winning team threw their captain – Adrian – in the air three times before preparing to rest until their next game, scheduled for this evening.

Sure enough, the moment Blaise rose to his feet to join his team for a quick meeting, Adrian took his place at my side. "You threw me off my game."

"Excuse me?" I asked with an arched eyebrow, raising the rim of my wide-brimmed hat so I could look up into his face.

"It's your first time watching me play," he explained, sitting down next to me and ignoring the murmurs of the people sitting around us as they clocked that _Adrian Pucey_ was sitting in the stands as if he was a 'regular person'. "You wouldn't even watch me play at Hogwarts because you don't like the game."

"I still don't."

"Well, for some reason you decided to watch this match. So, is it any wonder that I was a bit on edge?"

"I came to watch my brother," I insisted with a roll of my eyes that did absolutely nothing to dim the smile on his lips. Or mine for that matter. "Besides, you're giving me too much importance."

"I don't think so," he protested quietly, leaning towards me to bump his shoulder gently against mine. The contact, although barely there, had me turning to hold his gaze. "So, what did you think of the match?"

"I know absolutely nothing about Quidditch," I reminded him with a shake of my head.

"Then why did you come?"

"I told you Adrian; Blaise dragged me here."

"We both know that's not the reason why," he insisted with a shake of his head. "No one can get you to do something you don't want to."

I bit back the retort that he clearly didn't know me as much as he thought he did. Because if he _did_ then he would realise that I would take a cruciatus, an Avada even for Blaise, for any of my family. So, what was a few days of Quidditch compared to an Unforgivable?

But he wanted a certain answer. One I was going to give him, even if it was a lie. It was the answer I needed to give him to ensure that things advanced a little further. And so, I leaned closer into him making sure that the length of my top half brushed against his side for a few seconds as I studied his face.

Making a show of searching his eyes, I murmured, barely a whisper, "I wonder why."

It worked just as well as I knew it would; Adrian picked up on the not so subtle hint and then there was a brief smile playing around the corner of his mouth. My eyes flickered over his shoulder towards Blaise who hovered on the side-lines and nodded gently. If Adrian noticed the action, he took it as a prompt that he could ask me whatever he wanted.

"I've been going mad lately," he insisted with a laugh, "because I keep wondering how to get you to go on at least one date with me. Fancy putting me out of my misery?"

And before I could give him an answer, a hand was outstretched towards me. Just as well, really considering that I didn't know what answer I would have given him. So instead of answering, I slipped my hand into Blaise's familiar one and let him haul me to my feet. Now standing, I looked down at a still seated Adrian as I linked my arm through Blaise's.

"I'll think about it," I promised as I met his expectant eyes before allowing Blaise to draw me away. The hope in his eyes was almost enough to make me feel bad. Almost.

* * *

The real key to playing hard to get was knowing just when to allow yourself to be caught. No doubt the person chasing after you wound puff up like a bloody peacock with arrogant self-pride at finally getting what they wanted. Poor Adrian would no doubt do the same, believing that he'd won when in reality _I_ had been the one to win. It was all happening the way I wanted it to.

And even when he arrived at my apartment to pick me up, I made sure to dress to look my best, looking every bit as beautiful as my mother had in her youth. I was the daughter of the infamous Black Widow witch who was so beautiful that her husbands didn't mind the danger of being with her so long as they got to keep her for the rest of their lives. However short those lives were.

It was only right that I looked the part of her daughter. When Adrian arrived outside of the apartment, knocking and calling out through the door, I grabbed my coat and adjusted my hair for a final moment before walking towards the door.

Opening the door, I stepped outside into the hallway and glanced expectantly at Adrian. Before he could quench his curiosity by peering into my home, I shut the door on his eyes and smiled warmly up at him. If he thought my defensiveness about my home odd, he didn't show it. Instead, he just took my arm and walked me out of the building towards the nearest apparition spot before whisking me away for our date.

Rather unsurprisingly we found ourselves standing outside of a restaurant that Adrian was quick to lead me into when it became obvious that I hadn't cast a warming charm on myself and the cold weather was getting to me. Stepping out of the apparition point, I instantly removed my arm from Adrian's and whilst he looked like he wanted to protest, he didn't. He just walked me to the door of the restaurant and held it open, letting mw head in first. Adrian followed a short distance behind.

He left my side for a very brief moment to check on the reservation he had made but it was enough for the majority of the men in the restaurant to turn their eyes onto me. It was as if the lack of male companion beside me was enough consent for them to rake their filthy eyes over me from head to toe. The unwanted male attention was something that I had experienced from a _far_ too young age and as I aged I had grown better at reacting to it. And now, I was able to hide the disgust I felt behind a veil of cold indifference all while silently hoping for Adrian's return to quicken. The sooner he was by my side, the sooner those eyes would finally leave me.

And I was correct because the moment Adrian appeared by my side, a hand gently pressed to the small of my back, those beady eyes switched their focus of attention onto him. They took in his impressive height, broad shoulders and arms that clearly suggested his athletic prowess before finally looking at his face. It was enough then, they recognised him as being rather well known and knew that they wouldn't be able to beat him and finally returned to their own meals. I breathed a little easier then and the thoughts of those times where I had found myself apprehended by men that couldn't take no for an answer, quickly fled my mind.

"Is everything alright?" Adrian asked quietly as one of the waiting staff approached us to show us to our table.

My eyes, full of surprise, lifted towards his own and I searched them, wondering just how he had realised that I wasn't fine. No matter the answer, I would lie to him anyway. Only it wasn't _exactly_ a lie. "I was just waiting for you to get back."

"I'm here now," he said with a reassuring smile, gesturing for the staff to lead the way.

With a light hand to the small of my back, gentle and yet pressured at the same time, Adrian urged me to walk ahead of him towards the table at one of the lesser occupied corners of the restaurant. Once we reached the table, the staff member gave us our privacy and only then did Adrian drop his hand. Even then it was so that he could cut in front of me to pull out my chair.

With a thankful smile, I sank down into the seat as he pushed it under the table again. Watching Adrian with a close eye, I shrugged out of the coat. "What's with that expression, Pucey?"

"Have you noticed the number of men looking at you?" he asked offhandedly and I reached for my glass of water.

"Oh?"

"They're all jealous of me," he explained with a slight chuckle, reaching for his menu.

"And why's that?" I asked, already knowing the answer he would give me. He'd cite my beauty, maybe even going as far as to claim I was the most beautiful woman in the entire restaurant. Not that he would be wrong with that claim. But what else could you expect from men? Mother always said that they were visual creatures.

"Because I'm on a first date with the girl that's occupied my thought since even before leaving Hogwarts," he said so simply that I could do nothing to stop the surprise from flickering across my features. He noticed it, of course, he did and chuckled quietly. "What? Don't look at me like that. It's true."

Shaking my head slightly, I cleared my throat before asking, " _First_ date?"

"First," he repeated with a nod. "I expect many more. Granted that will only happen if I don't screw this up."

"Why would you?" I asked, considering him as he opened his menu so that he didn't have to meet my eyes for a moment.

"Because I'm so bloody nervous right now," he admitted quietly, the words leaving his mouth in such a rush that I couldn't help but giggle. Merlin, he was so earnest that I felt a sudden unwelcome rush of guilt that I was quick to dismiss.

"You really don't need to be nervous, Adrian. It's just me."

* * *

Adrian, despite all of his worries, _didn't_ end up screwing up our date. In fact, he was such a gentleman that I wasn't hesitant at all to allow him to continue taking me out. And the more I saw of him, the more I realised just how different we both were. He was so _open,_ having no reason to be defensive or to hide anything even if only to protect himself. Adrian saw no need for that and just continued to express how willing he was to integrate me in every single part of his life.

He didn't push either, not even grumbling about the fact that he had yet to get any sort of physical gratification for the effort he continued to put in where I knew that other men would have resorted to trying to guilt me into furthering the relationship we shared. Salazar, Adrian hadn't even stepped foot in my apartment yet but here I was walking into his home because he had altered the wards to let me in whenever I wanted – even if he wasn't home. He had pointed out that his apartment was closer to my place of work than my own and that it made sense that I dropped by his whenever I wanted a break during the lunch hour.

And so, when I apparated into his home with a copy of today's Daily Prophet held in my hand, I headed instantly into the front room where I knew I would find him. Adrian sat up from where he had been sprawled across the sofa with a research paper open in his lap and turned towards the sound of my footsteps.

"Have you seen this?" I asked without any sort of greeting, turning to the gossip section of the papers which were plastered with pictures of us on our last date. Just when had these been taken? And how hadn't we noticed?

Adrian rose to his feet at my question, crossing the room so he could stand behind me. Squeezing my shoulders with his hands, he peered down at the open papers but couldn't help but chuckle. "They'll get bored of paying attention to us."

"You said that weeks ago," I pointed out, casting a glance at him from over my shoulder.

"What can I say? We make a good-looking pair," he justified before leaning down to kiss me. I was quick to turn my head so his lips grazed my cheek and he didn't so much as let out an irritated sigh. Instead, he just squeezed my shoulders reassuringly again before walking me towards his sofa and making me sit.

"Any particular reason you wanted to see me today?" I asked, watching as he gathered up the research papers he'd been reading and set them on the coffee table. I did the same with the newspaper and turned expectantly towards him. "Well?"

"No real reason," he admitted with a simple shrug of his shoulders. "I've just been busy with training and haven't been able to see you. Isn't missing you a good enough reason?"

Rolling my eyes, I murmured, "Sometimes I swear that you're like a little child."

"I'm _definitely_ not little kid." He rolled his eyes before announcing, "I ordered some food – enough for the both of us so you might as well stick around for longer."

"Keeping me hostage with the bait of food," I murmured playfully, side-eyeing him.

"That _was_ the plan." He sounded so unashamed that I couldn't help but laugh a little. When he spoke next, some of the amusement had bled out of his voice and I found myself watching him closely. "But I was hoping to sweeten you up with food as well so we could have a serious talk about what we are. Don't get me wrong, I like spending time with you but I can't help but wonder where this is going. Are we dating?"

Part of me wanted to run, to avoid having to answer and I knew that if I _did_ run away, he would give me all the time I needed to think everything through. Adrian was so scared of pushing me to the point where I walked completely out of his life that he would forgive me anything. But, if I wanted to ensure that he was in it for the long run, then this was simply the first stumbling block. Sure to be the first of many.

"Are you that desperate to show me off to your teammates?" I teased gently with a slight laugh and I wondered if he knew how obvious the relived breath he let out was? If he did, did he care?

"Honestly? I am," he agreed, reaching out to snag my nearest hand in his. Drumming his fingers against the back of my hand, he spoke as if his words meant nothing when they so clearly did. "All the papers are asking what our relationship is and I would kind of appreciate an answer as well."

This time there was no avoiding the question. He held my gaze and I saw the determination slide into his own eyes. He was not going to back away any longer; I had to give him the answer, whether or not it was one he wanted. Merlin, as I stared longer into those eyes, I could feel actual fear creeping into me. Letting him close gave him the power to hurt me.

"I don't know," I murmured, struggling to turn my eyes away from his.

Adrian held my gaze for a moment longer before he was leaning in and this time I didn't move, I let him kiss me. It was soft, a faint brushing of his lips against my own that eventually grew less hesitant when I returned it. Ending the kiss quickly, Adrian drew away from me, holding himself so close to me that our noses brushed lightly.

"You don't need to be scared," he assured, words nothing more than a murmur. Even as I nodded to assure him that I understood, I found myself worrying even more; how had he known? Merlin, when had he grown so good at studying my hidden thoughts?

* * *

It wasn't often that my schoolmates and I managed to find the time to get together. We were all busy with work and some of us even with children or husbands so it was extremely hard for us all to manage to get the same day out of our busy schedules. But today had taken months of planning to ensure that we would be able to see each other after what was probably a good year or so. Our group, tightly knit the way all Slytherin friendship groups were because of the shared avoidance the rest of the school had for our house, was made up of girls that had been in various year groups and with the entirety of us meeting up today, we took up quite a few tables in our usual coffee shop.

Knowing that we would likely spend hours just catching up, we essentially went around the circle and caught up on the latest news, casting pictures of newborn babies around the tables and cooing over chubby-cheeked infants. But, with much reluctance on my part, the conversation soon drifted to my new relationship with Adrian. And to my chagrin, most of the girls simultaneously pulled out various copies of newspapers which featured pictures and articles written about us. Merlin, half of the reason for the number of articles was because of who he was and the other half was wondering if I would take after my mother.

"Have you read this?" Patricia asked, passing me the newest issue of the Daily Prophet's sport's section where Adrian had been made the captain of his team. In the picture attached to the article, Adrian was smiling widely, being thrown up by his team in celebration of their last win.

"He did mention it," I admitted softly as I set the newspaper aside. Picking up my teacup, I took a sip and waited for the onslaught that was sure to begin soon. "I clearly have a good eye for men."

"That you do," Nia agreed with a laugh. "She could always tell you which of the boys to stay away from just because of the way they looked at her. Remember how after Soven looked at her funny she told us to avoid him and then a month later he was caught for harassing girls?"

As the girls began to talk about how the instincts and the teachings my mother had ingrained into my mind, had saved them multiple times, I lost myself in my thoughts. Stirring some sugar into my tea, I stared down into the cup and tried not to zone out too much.

"So," Esther prompted, making me look up at her from under my eyelashes. "What was it about Adrian that had him looking more appealing now? You never gave him the chance at school."

"Remember when he used to trail after you?" Tuslima said, nudging me with her elbow when it became obvious that I wasn't quite willing to open up to any of them about him. It felt dirty talking about him in this context when I wasn't truly dating him. "And Salazar, that's saying something because Adrian Pucey did _not_ trail after anyone."

"Maybe that's no so true," Hwayoung said thoughtfully. "He's always trailed after her – even back in school. He did everything for her; she just needed to say jump and he would ask her how high."

"Stop it," I said instantly, her words prickling uncomfortably at my conscience. Merlin, I continued to feel guilty whenever I really _really_ thought about my relationship with Adrian.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the room but it didn't last for long, especially considering the man who had just walked into the shop. I wasn't paying any attention, too busy staring down at Adrian's face in the picture until Tuslima elbowed me, making me look up in time to spy Adrian who was walking towards our table. Grabbing a chair from the table nearest to ours, he settled down beside me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, looking up at him with the smile that always sprung on my face at the sight of him. Merlin, I had used the false smile it so often that it was like a reflex now.

"I just missed you," he bluffed, clearly here for another reason. He met my gaze for a moment, trying and failing to hide his smile before turning his gaze to greet the other women at the table. "Ladies."

"Congratulations," Esther said, gesturing to the newspaper. "It's hard to believe that you were never captain in school."

"What can I say?" he shrugged, looping an arm around the back of my chair. "I age well."

Thankfully, before any of my friends could say anything far too embarrassing, the barista called out Adrian's name and held his drink aloft for a moment before setting it on the counter. With a reluctant sight, Adrian prepared to rise to his feet.

"Looks like I need to go," he said with a sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of my head. "I'll see you later."

Nodding silently with a smile, I reached out to squeeze his hand for a moment as he rose to his feet. He returned it before turning away to the counter to grab his drink. I watched him as he walked out of the coffee shop but before he finally stepped out into the road, he tossed me a quick wink over his shoulder.

Returning my gaze to my friends, I unsurprisingly found myself pinned by heavy stares. I didn't so much as fidget under their gaze and simply raised an eyebrow. They shared a look, clearly wondering who would be the first to speak and then, simply because she was the eldest, Patricia spoke up.

"There's something going on with you," she spoke quietly in a tone that sounded as if she was speaking to her son. "What's going on with you? You're not acting like a woman in love."

"This is all still new to me," I tried to justify. "I don't date – I've never really dated before. I don't exactly know how I'm supposed to behave."

"She has a point," Nia said with a slow nod. "This _is_ her first relationship."

* * *

The course to becoming a fully qualified curse breaker meant that we were almost always studying a page of ruins or arithmancy calculations and I soon realised that _just_ as soon as you started to make any sort of progress, you were bound to be a disrupted. And since today's disruption took the form of my vain younger brother, I couldn't even bring myself to be angry at his appearance. But, when he continued to lounge about in my little study in silence for almost ten minutes without speaking a single word, I could feel myself beginning to get angry. The smirk on his face told me that the bastard knew just what he was doing.

With an irritated scowl, I stopped annotating the parchment in front of me and set my quill aside. Crossing my arms, I demanded, "Do you really have nothing better to do with your life."

"You know that irritating you have always been one of my favourites past times," he said with a charming smile.

" _Blaise_ ," I warned with narrowed eyes.

No doubt hearing how close I was to hexing him, Blaise straightened up in his seat. Reaching into his inner pocket, he drew out a copy of a newspaper and held it out towards me. I simply raised my eyebrow, refusing to take the paper. "Did you read the latest interview Adrian did?"

"I did. Why are you bringing it up?"

"The man's bloody well gone on you," Blaise said as if that was supposed to be news. When I continued to just look at him, he frowned and wondered, "If you had to do this with someone, why did you choose someone that you knew already loved you?"

"Come on," I tried to cut in with a sigh. This was not something that I wanted to discuss with him. He probably knew that but decided to probe anyway. "Are you going soft on me?"

"Of course not," he said with an incredulous scoff. "But you knew that because he loved you he'd look past it all, right? That he wouldn't care that the moment he gets close to you, you draw away from him? Like he's supposed to look past it all and just be glad that you're with him."

"Blaise!" I called sharply, holding his gaze. "Stop it."

He didn't so much as flinch at my tone. Instead, he returned my stare and spoke firmly, "You deserve much better than that."

"I am _not_ having this conversation with you," I insisted, picking up my quill again. "Just go and let me get one with my work."

When Blaise remained seated, I looked pointedly towards the door only for my quill to slowly slip from between my fingers. Blaise, always knowing when something was wrong, turned towards the door and rose defensively to his feet when his eyes settled on an eavesdropping Adrian. He definitely was not going to leave so easily now.

"Blaise," I said, finally pulling my eyes away from my boyfriend who had so obviously heard every word. Rising to my feet, I reached across my desk to tug on my brother's sleeve. Glancing towards me with a frown, Blaise arched a single eyebrow already knowing what I was going to say. "Just go. I'll owl you later."

And that was enough for him; he knew not to question me when I had come to my own decision. Even still, his steps were slow and measured as he crossed the length of my study and approached the door. Adrian stepped obligingly out of the doorway and let Blaise through but not before the pair of them shared a meaningful look. Shutting the door behind my brother, Adrian finally walked into the room and fixed his eyes onto mine.

"Your brother was right," he said eventually, gesturing towards the door that Blaise had just exited through. "I noticed that the moment you were feeling even a little bit of affection for me, you draw away."

"Adrian –"

He shook his head, silencing whatever I could have said. All I had to do was listen to what he had to say. "But I was willing to accept that. But I can't do it anymore. There's so much that I want to do with you, a future that I want for _us_ but I can't take what you're giving me."

When he stopped speaking, Adrian continued to meet my eyes and just waited for me to say something. But for probably the first time in my life, there was nothing that I wanted to say, nothing I could think of that would make things better. So, I settled for silence but that was clearly the wrong answer.

"At least say something." It sounded like a plea.

"What am I supposed to say?" I glanced down at my clasped hands for a moment. "It sounds as if you already know what is going on."

Adrian laughed then; the sound hollow and an imposter of the one that he so easily used to give. It was abrasive and grated harshly against my skin so much that I almost wanted to flinch. "I'm giving you the chance to tell me that I've got it all wrong. Merlin, I want you to tell me that I'm wrong, and I don't even care if it's a lie. I just want to hear you say it but you won't even pretend to do that for me."

"You wouldn't believe me even if I did," I tried to justify quietly.

He was silent for a moment before sighing deeply. I raised my eyes to him in time to see him run a ragged hand through his hair. "You're right, I wouldn't have." Bringing his eyes to mine, Adrian simply stared at me for a moment before nodding, resolute. "But if I can't have all of you, then I don't want any of you."

And then, just like that, he was leaving without another word. My eyes followed his retreat, focusing on the door that swung shut behind him as I finally took my seat. It should have been easy for me to pick up my quill and just continue with my work. It should have been so bloody easy, so why did it feel like he had reached into my chest and ripped out my heart?

* * *

Like all children that didn't understand something or when they were struggling with anything, I ran back into the safety of my mother's arms. The moment I showed up at her home, she obviously knew that something was wrong but already understood that she wasn't to push. And so, it was only after the house elves had brought us some tea that she finally probed.

"Something's wrong," Mother began steadily, watching as I spooned one too many teaspoons of sugar into my cup. "Tell me who I need to hex."

"No one," I said with a shake of my head.

"Sweetheart –"

"I'm terrified," I admitted the words nothing more than a whisper that she somehow managed to hear.

Peering up at her from beneath my lashes, I watched as she frowned, clearly not expecting that. Setting aside her own teacup, she reached out to take my hands between both of hers and held them firm. I took comfort in the protective warmth and sucked in a shuddering breath.

"What are you so scared of?"

"I think I'm in love with Adrian," I could only admit it _because_ it was my Mother that I was talking to. Anyone else and I would never have confessed to such a thing. Mother was silent for a moment before a slow smile spread across her lips at the confession. But it halted the moment I shook my head at her and then she was searching my eyes, not understanding. "What am I supposed to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"He was supposed to be an easy target – someone that I would never fall for," I explained, taking my hands away and fidgeting with them in my lap. "I hadn't fallen for him while we were in Hogwarts so why in Merlin's name should now be any different?"

"You are no Black Widow witch," she reminded me with a shake of her head. Giving me an assessing look, she crossed one leg over the other and watched quietly as I swallowed thickly. "Sweetheart, you know this isn't the life I want for you."

"I just wanted a safe target Mother," I murmured helplessly. "Rich, accomplished and with no chance of ever hurting me."

Lips parted in a sigh, Mother moved towards me then, embracing me. She stroked my hair, uncaring that she was ruining the curls that I had spent time on in the morning. Speaking steadily, she explained unnecessarily, "You _know_ why I'm a Black Widow witch. The type of men that I marry are _not_ good men and I am doing the world a favour by removing them."

Drawing away from mother, I had to murmur, "I already know that."

"Well, you need to remember it." Searching my eyes, she asked, "Is Adrian a bad man?"

"Of course, he's not," I said, shaking my head.

"Does he rape women? Or little children?" Again, I was forced to shake my head. "Has he ever murdered someone else? No? Then it is alright for you to love him."

"But," I began, working up the courage to ask what I was truly scared of. Just the thought of it brought tears to my eyes. "What if I'm broken and can't love him properly?"

Mother sighed again, reaching out for me as she lamented, "This is all my fault."

"It's not," I protested with a sniffle.

"It is," she insisted sorrowfully. "It started with your father and I should have noticed sooner. I should have reacted differently."

"No. If you hadn't done what you did, then my life would have been very different." I forced myself to speak, even as I felt my skin crawl at having to remember it. "We both know father would never have been satisfied with simply sneaking into my room at night, he would have eventually moved on to Blaise. You did what you had to do to save us."

"I did what I had to do and so now it's only fair that you do what _you_ have to do." When Mother spoke next, it was firm to the point that it was startlingly obvious that she would not let me decide anything else. "You are allowed to love him. From the moment we met him again, I could tell that he loved you. And you love him, don't you?"

"But I think I'm too late," I whispered, more than a little scared of the prospect.

"Of course, you're not," she said as if even thinking that I was too late was stupid. Merlin, I hoped she was right.

* * *

It was time for me to begin making amends. Throughout the entirety of my relationship with Adrian, he had always been the one to chase after me, to make sure that I was happy and naturally, he had been the one to bring our relationship to an end as well. He'd known exactly how one-sided our relationship was so it was only natural that if things were to be fixed, that I was the one to do it. And Merlin, if I didn't fix it, no doubt Mother would step in first.

Mother had been the one to give me the idea of attending one of Adrian's practices; it was a tradition that the first practice of the season opened up for spectators and most parents took advantage by letting their young ones sit in the stands and watch their heroes play. She had claimed that Adrian would be touched that I made the effort, that any resentment he felt would melt at just the sight of me. I had no idea if Adrian had spied me but I knew that the reporters that took advantage of the opportunity certainly had.

There was a particular part of the spectator stands sectioned off for the friends, family and loved ones of the players. I was _not_ sat in that section and was instead seated amongst all the regular fans of the team. But my arrival, my seating choice especially, had happened to cause quite a stir amongst the reporters whose cameras were instantly pointed in my direction. Some had even switched seats so that they were closer to me. But I didn't so much as a glance towards them.

Flying on the pitch, just offside, was the coach who blew the whistle and brought the practice to a halt. The team flew into a huddle for a quick meeting before they would begin integrating with the crowd for a well-earned break. For the most part, the players went straight towards their loved ones for a few moments until Adrian was left flying mid-air, his eyes locked on mine. Part of me hoped that he would fly towards his mother but the even greater part of me hoped that he would approach me. Except, when he _did_ begin to fly towards me, I swore that my heart dropped.

"Adrian," I murmured, watching as he flew across the pitch. With mild trepidation, I waited to see what he would do; would he just fly towards me to tell me to leave? Salazar, if he did that then what was I going to do?

He didn't do that. Instead, he dismounted from the broom and climbed onto the stands beside me. Adrian's eyes didn't move past me even when he set his broom aside on the space next to mine and I found it almost impossible to glance away from him. "What are you doing here?"

"It's an open practice," I tried, the words more of a mumble that were lost in the space between us.

He frowned, looking like he wanted to comment on my uncharacteristic actions. That was until his eyes slid towards the reporters further down the bench and then he was grasping my hand, hauling me to my feet. Drawing me closer to him, Adrian walked me further down the stands before I could say another word. When we were a safe distance away, he continued to watch me expectantly.

"Well?" He adjusted the hold he had on my forearm, making me briefly wonder whether he was aware that he was still holding me. But I didn't comment on it. Instead, I swallowed nervously and lifted my gaze to his. Even that had him frowning, brows furrowed. "You're beginning to scare me, princess."

"It's nothing," I assured with a shake of my head. "I'm just, Merlin I'm terrified."

And just like that, he was melting as the need to comfort me became a priority. Releasing my arm, he took my face in his hands and drew it towards his own so he could hold my gaze. His eyes were so full of worry as they stared down into own, "Hey, hey what's wrong?"

"I thought you were mad at me," I protested, searching his gaze.

"You should know that I can't stay mad at you," he sighed. "So, tell me, what's wrong?"

Confronted with the prospect of actually having to confess what I was worried about, I withdrew once again. Retreating deep back inside of myself, I knew that it was just much safer to not say a thing. Adrian, by now able to read all the miniscule signs on my face, sensed the retreat and held firm before I could move.

"Just tell me," he pleaded.

"Mother was right," I started slowly, watching as the confusion played across his features. "You're a good man but I'm so fucked up that I shouldn't be doing this to you. I just need to go."

"Wait," he protested instantly the moment I managed to get out of his hold. He reached forwards quickly to grab my hand, drawing me back towards him. "You can't just say that and not explain anything."

"You just need to forget that I came –"

"You walk away now and I swear to Salazar himself that I will hoist you onto my broom and hold you hostage, until you tell me," he threatened, knowing fully well that being on a broom was the last thing I wanted to do in my life. "So, tell me the truth before I do something you won't like. _Now_."

"I'm in love with you," I admitted, the words leaving me in a rush. Salazar, now that I'd said them aloud, it felt like a great burden had been lifted from my heart. "And I'm so bloody scared."

"You better not be fucking with me," he warned slowly.

"It doesn't matter if I am because I've never seen what a healthy relationship is and – and I'll just end up fucking you up as well. " Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I decided, "That's why we just quit while we're ahead."

"There's no way I'm letting you go after what you just admitted," he said with a scoff. And then, before I could try and convince him otherwise, he was kissing me properly. He ignored the cameras going off around us and when he finally drew away again, he assured me quietly, "You don't have to be so scared. From now on, just follow my lead."


	2. Epilogue: 6 Years Later

_6 YEARS LATER_

Adrian's team were celebrating their championship win with a very well-deserved party. They had placed top of the league for the third year in a row and knowing just how important these celebrations were for team morale, I didn't so much as protest when Adrian tentatively brought up talks of the afterparty. Of course, he _had_ promised that he would return home early so that we could celebrate our first wedding anniversary together. He was supposed to have been home hours ago.

The sky had darkened into an inky blue and then into a pitch black, lit by very few stars and I eventually stopped waiting for him. With nothing more than a frown, I asked the house elves to assist me with putting the food away before retiring for the night. I finally made it to bed just after midnight and our first wedding anniversary had passed uneventfully.

Adrian finally stumbled into our bedroom as the hour hand ticked closer to the 1 and he made an awful amount of noise on his way in. A light sleeper by nature, I startled away and groaned, reaching my hand under my pillow to grab my wand. Casting a _Lumos,_ I looked unimpressed at my husband who stood hesitantly in the doorway. Scanning him from head to toe, I rolled my eyes before lying back down again. Turning my back to face him, I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep. Only, he seemed hellbent on stopping me.

Crossing the room, Adrian kneeled cautiously on the edge of the mattress and reached out towards me. The moment his hand closed softly around my arm, I sighed and rolled over to face him. Apologetic puppy dog eyes stared down at me.

"What?" I asked shortly, eyeing him when he tried to put his arms around me.

"Princess, I –"

"You are going to go to the bathroom and shower and drink the entire bottle of mouthwash if you have to," I threatened, scrunching my nose at the smell of alcohol wafting off of him. "You smell like you drank the entire bar."

Adrian, biting hesitantly on his lower lip, nodded slowly and rose to his feet. He cast me another forlorn look before turning slowly and walking sluggishly out of the room. I listened out for his footsteps disappearing further down the hallway before heading into our bathroom. Closing my eyes again, I settled down to sleep again and hoped that I wouldn't be awoken again. Clearly, it was such an impossible thing to wish for.

When Adrian returned again, this time changed into his pyjamas and actually managing to make it under the covers, he reached for me again. Lying in his arms, my back pressed against his chest, I waited with eyes closed to see what he so obviously had to say.

"Get a move on Adrian," I said eventually as the silence continued to lengthen. "I actually want to get some sleep tonight."

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, smothering a heavy sigh against my shoulder. "You know what these parties are like." When I made an unimpressed hum, Adrian started to soothingly massage the tension from the back of my neck. "I _did_ try to get home early, I swear I did. You know just how important today is for me, how important our anniversary is, but I wound up having to take some of the team back to their own homes because they were too drunk to apparate. I mean, that's my responsibility. I'm the _captain_."

"I don't want excuses from you," I said with a sigh, trying to move away from him again.

Not that he allowed that to happen. Falling silent, Adrian held me stubbornly against his chest. He wasn't content to let things simmer between us, he was the sort that needed it all to be sorted out.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured again, sounding more and more like a kicked puppy as every moment progressed. "I didn't forget, I would never forget. I even gave you your present in the morning before I had to leave for the match, remember?"

"Do you honestly think that I'm doing this because of a _present_?" I asked incredulously, sitting up and looking down at him with a scowl. "Really, Adrian?"

"I'm really sorry," he tried again, staring up at me from where he remained lying on the bed and I just rolled my eyes.

"I was going to give you your present," I started, pursing my lips only to shake my head. "I might as well give it to you now."

"You really don't need to –" he protested, rising so that he was sitting up and I batted away his words and leaned around him to reach for our bedside table. Adrian watched me hesitantly as I pulled the drawer open and picked up the small envelope that I stashed away at the back when coming to bed tonight.

Once I had the envelope safety held between my fingers, I pushed the drawer shut and returned to my position and eyed my silent husband. Even though I gestured for him to take it, Adrian searched my eyes for a long moment. Nodding again, I watched as he broke the seal at the back and withdrew the letter. Drawing the card out of the envelope, he opened it and glanced down at the picture that fell out of it.

Putting the card aside, Adrian picked up the photograph with shaking fingers and I found myself watching his reaction. I catalogued the way his eyes widened, colour rushing to his cheeks as an incredulous smile bloomed on his lips.

"Is this," he turned the photograph towards me – an ultrasound that clearly showed our little baby moving their arms-, "is this real?"

"Well it's certainly not fake," I snarked with a roll of my eyes.

"I can't believe it," he began with a delighted laugh, setting the ultrasound gently aside and reaching to put a hand to the back of my neck. Drawing me into him, he kissed me lovingly and I returned it with a smile against his lips.

"Adrian," I started quietly when I drew away from him. His smile was too beautiful not to return.

"Yes, the soon to be mother of my child?"

"You are sleeping on the sofa tonight," I said quietly and he was so deliriously happy that he didn't bother to complain, didn't try to bargain that he'd in bed stay only until I'd fallen asleep.

Instead, he rose to his feet with a kiss to the top of my head and picked up the ultrasound and the card. I watched Adrian's retreat from the room, realising that he was only just getting around to reading the card that accompanied the picture. And as I settled down to fall asleep, I wondered whether I would have the reserve to actually make him spend the entire night out of our bed. Salazar knew that every other time I had caved after a few hours.


End file.
